Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) © Yana Toboso. Hagane no Renkinjutsushi (Fullmetal Alchemist) © Hiromu Arakawa. No profit is being made from this story. This story does not necessarily reflect the author's religious views, beliefs or morals.
Rating: PG
Warning: May contain spoilers. Psychological. Mild dark themes.
Summary: There are times when Ciel is haunted by his conscience. Then he remembers; he can't afford to have one.
Story type: Fullmetal Alchemist Manga x Kuroshitsuji Manga Crossover.
Pairing: None.
AN (may contain spoilers for story and cannon): We've seen how Roy faced with a difficult decision deals with it. And in a way, Ciel's not that different from him. So here he is faced with a decision that results in death. The core of this story was based on Ciel's last words, I ended up building it backwards from there. Well sort of. I wrote the first few bits then jumped to the last few paragraphs and finally get the middle built. That's typically what my muse is like. This story was inspired by the conversation between Ciel and Sebastian in Volume 3, chapter 13, around page 127.
Conception Date: 8/01/2013
Completion Date: 30/3/2013
Secondary Completion Date: 5/8/2014
Duty
Ciel crouched in the shadow of a stack of crates, hunched over in the cold as he gnawed his thumbnail absent-mindedly, his brain whirring away, calculating the pros and cons of the situation.
He was running out of time he had to make a choice. The murderer was smart and more slippery than an oiled snake; the last time they had interceded to prevent him killing his target, he had escaped, leaving his intended victim seriously injured. Another three victims had fallen to his blade since then.
And it had all been Ciel's fault.
It had been his decision to intervene. It was his fault that there had been another three victims. Could he really take the risk of more victims, just to save the one? The young man entered into the alleyway, every step sounding a gong of doom in Ciel's mind, counting down to the moment till the stranger's death. He could signal the backup to move in right now before the young man was killed, or he could let it happen and be assured of catching the murderer. He could almost feel the higher-ups breathing down his neck. Damn it! If only the idiot hadn't gone after the Brigadier General's wife, the military wouldn't have gotten involved like this. He would have to here crouching here making this decision. His orders were clear; to bring in the murderer dead or alive by any means. It was just a matter of his conscience. Ciel wanted to snort at that thought.
Conscience.
The word applied to him was ironic. How could he have one, being what he was. No, a "conscience" was for humans. He wasn't, merely a tool used to carry out the will of the state. It was as simple as that.
The gnawing stopped.
The young man would have to die.
To Ciel's mind there were too many cons; the possible fallout of failing to catch the serial killer was unthinkable. Besides there was always a slim chance that the knife wound would not be fatal. Ciel inwardly snorted recognizing his pathetic attempt at salving the little, if any, conscience he had. The young man would just have to unknowingly hope that the first stab wouldn't be fatal.
The higher-ups had been furious, baying for blood. The result had led to this rather hurried operation, with little intelligence and barely any preparation. He watched as the young man passed his hiding place, unknowingly approaching the killer hiding behind between two buildings. Ciel watched impassively as the murderer sprang out, his knife flashing in the scant light. He signalled to the hidden soldiers when the knife was buried in the young man's chest.
§§§
The dark noble later stood by the grave site. Apparently the young man lived alone, his parents deceased, no brothers or sisters either. No one had stepped forwards to claim the body. Ciel organized the funeral. No one questioned him; they all thought he did it out of guilt, the weight of a death on his mind. But it was not guilt that drove him. The man had provided him with services, albeit unknowingly, and Ciel was giving him his payment.
As he stood next to the grave after the funeral, contemplating the headstone, Sebastian glided up next to him.
'This is unusual master. How kind of you.' He commented studying the headstone in morbid fascination. It wasn't as if he could ever truly die, or perhaps he could he was not sure of how far he could go.
'Nothing of the sort.' Sniffed Ciel haughtily 'I just completed a transaction.' There was a moment's silence. A light breeze swept through the graveyard, causing Ciel to shiver a little.
'Do you regret the transaction?' Sebastian asked curiously, looking down at his little creator.
'Not in the least. My job was to catch a serial murderer, not prevent any more deaths. If I had chosen to save the young man the murderer would have most likely escaped again. However by striking at the moment when all his attention was focused on his victim we managed to catch him.' Ciel replied monotonously 'Maybe if I had thought about it more I would have been able to save him. Intercepted him before he turned into the alley and given him some protective gear; manipulated the killer's mind so his reflexes were that little bit slower, or his aim a little off. But that was not my job, and so I took the most direct line of action that lead to the desired outcome; the Führer is at ease, the public feels safe, the military is no longer under scrutiny from parliament and the higher-ups are no longer breathing down my neck.'
Sebastian gazed blandly at his young master for a while before speaking in a toneless voice. 'I don't like this Führer of yours. He does not seem to have any regard for the welfare of his subordinates.
He makes you do all his dirty work.'
'It is our duty Sebastian. The Phantomhives have always been faithful to the Führership. Remember, I only have one goal: to find those that murdered my parents, humiliated me and sullied the Phantomhive name, and do unto them what they did unto me. I will do anything to reach that goal, regardless of the price.'
'You've been collared since the day you were born.' Sebastian commented eying his master's ring.
'No, since the day you were conceived.'
Ciel turned sharply from the grave. 'Collar or no collar. The dog hasn't been muzzled.' He called briskly over his shoulder. Sebastian stood there frozen for a moment, surprise written all over his face. Then his features melted into a too wide smile. Oh yes, his master was certainly entertaining.